It'd been a decent day for Mal too. He'd just made some money on a side job he'd picked up in the wrong side of town that he certainly hadn't mentioned to Simon or the others. He had a wad of cash in his hand and counted it contently. Simple delivery and drop of a package. Of what? Of course he didn't ask. They'd paid him well enough to last him through the month though. For once things had gone all kinds of smooth and that was exactly how he liked it. No complications, no police, nobody getting more involved then they ought to.
Simple jobs.
Simple enough to drive one mad. No. He wasn't going there. He had money he was cramming into the pockets of his coat. Good day. Not a one he had to talk out of being arrested by police. Not a single time did a reaver show up and attempt to rape and kill. Nor did air supply threaten to run short out in the black.
Running a hand through his hair in frustration as he made his way toward the complex, he saw a figure. A mangled one that made him pause. He had two choices, keep going or help. Complicate his simple job.
A tuft of orange hair he could spot from the mess of human. It was a human life. Nobody was that heartless. If he could help them it be worth it. If was the big question. He cautiously started toward the writhing figure and knelt over it. That was when the color drained from his face, and if he was the yelling sort it would have happened.
That was his pilot. His Wash.
"Shun-SHENG duh gao-WAHN" He swore under his breath and knelt beside him, this wound wasn't something he could touch without possibly killing him or hurting him further. He wasn't about to cause him more pain if he didn't have to. "Wash?"